


I Can't Unlove You...

by Eden Marie Dawson (GodDamnedPlums)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Romantic Tension, Sastiel - Freeform, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodDamnedPlums/pseuds/Eden%20Marie%20Dawson
Summary: ...So come and love me for now.





	

[](http://s349.photobucket.com/user/Sammy_Morenna/media/I%20Cant%20Unlove%20You_zpsgouagope.jpg.html)

The mornings were the worst part. When the sun would slowly creep across the horizon, bathing the world in a beautiful soft light that silently slid through the slats in the dusty, broken blinds that hung in front of the small motel window. No matter how much he wished for the darkness to hang on, just a little while longer, he knew that it was time for the moon to rest and the sun to rise, keeping the system in balance yet another day. It wasn't that he hated the sun, quite the contrary, actually. Sam Winchester loved the way that the sun's rays would warm his skin as it broke through the windshield of the '67 Chevy Impala that he and his brother practically lived in. He enjoyed taking random strolls through the park, watching the sunlight glint off of any shiney surface that it managed to touch, and he didn't even mind the slight sting that accompanied the rare sunburn that he recieved when he wasn't dressed to the hilt in flannel. Sam loved the sun, but lately, it seemed he was having a love affair with the moon.

The moon, the darkness that cloaked the skies, sometimes even blotting out the wandering clouds and sparkling stars, was what had captured the young hunter's heart as of late. More so, what came along with the night. A beautiful, dark-haired angel that would appear in his room with just a soft flutter of his trench coat and a slight ruffle of his wings. Wings that, as far as Sam was concerned, were the most beautiful part of Castiel, next to his heart of gold, anyway. Dean hadn't questioned why he had requested that they get seperate motel rooms for the past five months, nor had he complained. He simply gave Sam one of his signature "You alright?" eyebrow raises and Sam had responded with his typical shrug of his shoulders and slight nod. They'd been practically living in each other's pockets for long enough that they no longer needed to verbally comminicate most things. In a way, Sam was glad, because he wasn't sure he would've been able to explain just why he wanted, no, needed, to be alone.

Because he wasn't alone. Not all night, anyway. Sam would wait until the faint snores could be heard through the thin walls seperating their rooms, signaling that his brother had finally knocked out for the night, before he would close his eyes and send up a silent prayer. It was always the same prayer, a soft plea of "Cas, I need you", and within moments, that familiar flutter would fill Sam's ears, barely heard over the pounding of his heart in his chest. Hazel eyes would search out a blue that was so crystal clear that Sam was convinced that Cas had stolen the color directly from the ocean's depths. It had become a routine of sorts for them, always silent, because neither one of them could risk waking Dean, each with a reason that they'd agreed not to disclose when they'd first started this affair.

An affair. The word tasted bitter on Sam's tongue, but if the only way that he would be able to hold Cas was in secret, then he'd bite his tongue until he'd bitten completely through the damn thing if he had to. Sam wasn't sure when the attraction had started for Cas, but for him, it had been immediate. He'd taken one look into those deep sapphire pools and knew he'd lost the battle before it'd even had a chance to begin. Sam wasn't one to fall easily, not after losing Jess and the betrayal that came with loving Ruby, but Cas gave him no choice. All that the Seraph had to do was breathe his name with that gruff, knee-weakening voice of his and Sam was all but a puddle on the floor at the angel's feet. The only problem was... Dean was in love with him, too.

Dean didn't 'do relationships'. He'd sworn off of them after he'd lost Lisa and Ben, but it was clear that there was a connection there between him and Cas. The long looks that were shared in silence, either in passing or when they were working a case together, the way that Cas conviniently forgot about Dean's need for personal space, and the way that Dean had given up even bringing the subject to light anymore, it was all intense but silent, as if neither one of them were willing to risk ruining the friendship that had taken them years to establish.

Unfortunately, that left Sam in romantic purgatory, stuck somewhere between Heaven and Hell. He had started excusing himself from their presence more often, unable to stand more than a few minutes with them when they would start looking at each other like they'd both finally found the missing piece to their puzzle. Dean hadn't seemed to notice anything was off, but Cas had. He'd kept quiet about it for only a month, and when Dean had gone out on a supply run, i.e. he wanted more beer and pie, Cas had cornered Sam in the motel room that he and Dean had been sharing in Oklahoma while they worked on a simple salt and burn case that Bobby had rounded up for them. He hadn't let Sam leave, nor did he let the subject drop, until Sam had finally blurted out in a frustration-filled shout that he was in love with him. Needless to say, Sam felt awful about yelling, misunderstanding that the look in Castiel's eyes was one of curious confusion and not one of hurt feelings. He'd started to apologize when Cas had surged forward, pressing the hunter back into the dingy wallpaper and pressed chapped lips against his own.

Five months. Their nightly 'meetings' had been going on for a little over five months, and each time Sam would tell himself that it was over. That he needed to accept the fact that Cas belonged to Dean, even if his hardheaded, emotionally constipated brother refused to man up to the fact that he loved the angel, but every night he would find himself stripped down to his boxers, laying beneath the covers and trying to will sleep to come. It never did, forcing him to give in to the grieving of his heart and call down the raven-haired beauty once again. The first time that they had been together it had been perfectly controlled chaos; their kisses were all teeth and tongue, grips bruising and breath mingling in the close proximity, their eyes both blown wide with uncontrolled lust. Dean had noticed the purplish bruises left on his hips when he'd emerged in just a towel the next morning, and proceeded to relentlessly tease him about finally finding a 'nice girl' to have a little fun with. Sam's face had been burning bright with both embarassment and fear, though thankfully Castiel wasn't there. He didn't know if he would be so inclined to keep their....whatever had happened between them, a secret. Judging by the way that Cas had taken extreme caution not to leave visible marks on his skin the second time they were together, Sam figured that he didn't have anything to worry about. He wasn't sure if that pleased or hurt him more.

Their routine was simple these days; Cas would slide out of his trench coat and suit jacket as he made his way to the bed, Sam meeting him halfway, positioned on his knees at the foot of the bed. He'd grab hold of the angel's neck, pulling him into a deep kiss while Cas' calloused fingers slid over every exposed expansion of skin that they could reach. The simple touch was enough to bring Sam quivering to the edge, further solidifying just how much that he was in love with the Seraph in his heart and mind. They'd tumble back onto the bed, Sam working at the belt and zipper of Cas' pants, shoving the fabric down strong, muscular thighs as Cas broke their kiss in favor of leaving, now much softer but no less arousing, nips and licks across the skin of his throat. They'd come to know each other's bodies fairly well, each committing to memory just where the spots were that would drive the other into a frenzy with a few well-pressured strokes. It was beautiful, each time that they came together powerful and driving them higher and higher until the stars seemed to explode above, mirroring the silent cries of pleasure that tore from their open mouths.

Sam would lay in Castiel's strong arms, for once feeling like he was actually able to break down and show weakness without the fear of being judged for it. It wasn't like a hunter, especially not a Winchester, to show any kind of emotion openly, and for someone of Sam's size and stature, the stigma put upon him was even more demanding. With Cas, though, he didn't feel like he had anything to hide. He could bare his soul and everything inside it and always be met with open arms and a kind if not slightly confused or curious smile in return. It didn't help that he realized that that was probably what Dean was feeling, too, but unlike Sam he wasn't as willing, or ready, to give up his hold on being the 'good little soldier' that their father had brought them up to be. Dean's walls were crumbling, the longer that Cas was around, but they still had a ways to go. Sam's were laying in rubble at his feet, barely put back together each time that he had to face his big brother.

It was killing him inside, keeping this secret from Dean. They had been through so much together, went to Hell and back for one another, literally, and yet here he was, laying in the arms of the man that, for all Sam knew, was the person that Dean was actually meant to be with in his life. He felt selfish and cold, his heart filled with conflicting emotions of jealousy, love and guilt. Castiel must've felt the confliction, because every time he'd start to tense up, he'd feel the angel rubbing a hand idly up and down his back and over his arm that would have him relaxing in just a few moments. Often times, it would lull him to sleep, despite his struggle to stay awake, to make the moment last just a little while longer.

The mornings were the worst, when the sun would creep over the horizon to greet the world with a beautiful soft glow, and Sam would swipe his hand over cold sheets, the only evidence that Cas had been there at all being the lone black feather that lay on the other pillow, and the faint scent of honey, pine and home that was left clinging to Sam's skin. Just like every morning, he'd pull the pillow close to his chest, bury his face in the softness, fingers clutched desperately around the lone feather, and try to block out the morning's rays. Just a little while longer, that's all he needed. He'd get over this, over him, but for now, he just wanted to cling to the feeling just a little while longer.


End file.
